Bechloe Oneshots
by UnholyHelbig
Summary: I write so many oneshots- and this is just a collection of them that I thought I would share. Please, please, please hit me up with some reviews. It really does help encourage me to write.
1. 1: Barden

**The pain ripped through** the edge of Chloe's jaw, a dark metallic taste overwhelming against her taste buds as her deep cobalt eyes met the edge of a training mat. She hadn't expected the hit to be that hard, to be that fast and agile. Beca was strong enough to make a lasting impression, one that echoed on the side of her mind.

Her fingers met the aching splotch that was throbbing with her heartbeat. She was breathing heavy, stare raising to meet the chocolate gaze. It was cocky, the smaller girl having a smirk engraved on pink lips. She was in fighting stance; shoulders squared as her gloved hands raised in point with her collarbone.

"you told me to give it my all," She panted, trying to make up for the punch she just threw.

"I know what I said." Chloe spits to her side, the blood trickling from a small cut that was stinging on the side of her mouth. She was tempted to drag her arm against her chin but knew it would just smear the crimson even more.

"Do you need a minute?" Beca asked.

Instead of giving a plausible answer, Chloe sprung forward, moving with the current as she attempted to hit Beca where it hurt. The brunette ducked quickly, forcing her knuckles into Chloe's ribs as the girl pushed back against her touch, not quite fond on giving up yet.

"Come on Chlo," her opponent taunted "You're better than this."

"You're right," The red-head straightened up, dropping her hands to the side. Her fingertips were cold against the gym air. She was breathing heavy as she slumped her shoulders not fully in the fight. "I know you're right, something just seems off lately. Like I'm not good enough."

"Oh," Beca dropped her own stance, sniffing a bit as her lungs got used to the normal pace she usually kept. She stepped closer to her friend, not intending for the game talk to really hit the girl as had as it did. "That was a joke. We just spar for fun, right? You know you're capable of anything."

The two of them were about a nose distance apart now, sweat glistening under the light that the facility gym had to offer. It was a small and private room in the middle of a large company. Its surrounding windows were frosted, a few weight machines off in the corners. There was mostly empty flooring, though.

"I know," Chloe gave a menacing smile, sweeping one foot under Beca, the smaller girl lost her balance quickly, landing on her back as all the breath escaped her lungs. She grunted, her hands landing in a mess above her as Chloe quickly straddled her sparring partner.

"That was dirty, Beale." The brunette growled under her friend's touch.

"Play dirty to win big, Mitchell." Her knees were on either side of the girl's waist, fingers lightly pressing down on top of her wrists as she smirked in triumph. Beca was panting, staring up at Chloe as deep red hair fell into crystalline eyes.

The clearing of someone's throat was enough to make the girls peel their limbs apart, Chloe veering to the side as Beca sat up on her elbow- their focus on the tall blonde woman who stood by the door. They didn't hear it slide open, the one drawback of the facilities advances in technology.

"If you two are done," She spoke gravely. Aubrey's hands were crossed over her chest, the company logo on the black t-shirt she wore was quickly covered by her arm. They had grown used to the disapproving looks and snide comments they got from the group leader. She never went further than that, though. "We have things to discuss."

"Of course," Chloe raised herself up from the ground, wiping her hands on her equally as pitch pants before reaching a hand down and pulling her partner up from the floor. Beca let out a small grunt as she nodded towards Aubrey.

The girl grunted before walking away, expecting to be followed. She didn't' have to wait long. The corridor that stretched in front of them was lined in metal walls, the floor a dark grey. It was lit by bright fluorescents that would emit different powders if dropped. Just like any lightbulb. They were too careful around here to let that happen, though.

"I'm sure both of you are aware of the rise in crime rates in sector seven."

"Mm," Beca spoke up, "It's all over the news, but I don't see how that's our problem."

"Local law enforcement usually handles that type of thing, don't they?" Chloe cocked a brow, feeling Aubrey's shoulder make contact with her chest as she let out a small breath. The blonde had stopped suddenly, turning to face the two girls that stood in front of her. They looked scrappy, dried blood still on the base of Chloe's chin.

"You're right." She stated "Usually, but it's gotten too out of hand for them to fight anymore."

"They've given up?"

"They've deserted." Aubrey snarled, clearly angered by the situation that was thrust into the teams responsibility. She turned quickly on her heels, shoes still echoing as they headed to the large room office that was at the end of such a lengthy hallway. "Barden has to clean up their mess now. One that's shrouded in barbed wire, apparently."

Beca gave a wary glance to her partner as the two took the hint that Aubrey would blow a gasket on the subject if they asked any more questions. Chloe's mouth was dry and tasted like cotton. She always used to cringe when she would see someone dig their teeth into the collar of their shirt, soaking it with saliva. It was never a habit she kept as a child.

The trio came upon a large glass door. It was smoked out, just like the walls of the gym. There was a stillness in the air as Aubrey touched the black screen that lit up to the slightest interaction. It illuminated a small patch of the hallway in a deep blue color. She typed in a code, each number flashing gold at the possibility of being pushed. The normal cards wouldn't work here. They couldn't swipe their way into a high-level office.

A small compression of air released in to fill the quiet, Aubrey squaring her shoulders as she stepped into the large room. It was simple, a white desk pushed against the back wall with a large computer screen made of transparent material. There were equally as stark bookshelves to the right, filled with different law books that would highlight in gold the moment you laid a finger on them.

"This is who you came up with?" Gail sat behind the large desk, shutting the screen off as she raised her eyebrows. She looked stunning, her hair in a tight bun as she lifted her chin slightly. A dark collar was popped on her shirt, mouth slightly agape as she stared at her apprentice for an explanation. Neither girls had ever seen Aubrey quake with much intimidation before- yet this one woman had enough power in just her gaze to still the entire room.

"I-uh," She cleared her throat quickly "Well, yes ma'am. Chloe and Beca are two of Barden's most promising agents. Just young enough to pass, just pretty enough to do so with flying colors."

Beca drew in a breath, ready to push words past her lips, but Chloe's hand on the small of her back stopped her. It was better to stay silent in this situation, even if she had to bite her tongue the point of tears forming in her eyes.

"Sector seven needs fighters," Gail stood up from behind the desk, her dark heels reflecting against crystal floors. "Not trainee's."

Chloe averted her gaze to the floor. The woman in front of them had only spoken a few words to her, maybe once or twice while passing in the hallway. There was a mutual understanding between everyone here. You don't question your leadership, especially when she looks that intimidating in a pair of 6-inch heels. Her hands were behind her back, one wrapped around the opposite wrist as she stayed at attention. Beca was a little more slumped, her chin lifted slightly as she listened to the exchange.

"They've trained well, Ma'am." Aubrey stood her ground, a bit more anger pressing it's way through her tone. She had faith in the girls that she had stuck with from day one. The two people she pulled from poverty and gave a purpose. They were hard to break, at first. But she got through. She taught them everything that she knew. "They know Sector Seven."

Gail let out a small sigh as she sat on the edge of her desk. She had a pensive look on her face, biting her lip as she stared down at the floor. It was something to consider. The rest of the unit were more than capable of finding some order in an unsalvageable piece of land. But the two woman who stood in front of her had a better chance of doing it without detection.

"I could feed you some bullshit line about this being the hardest thing you'll ever have to do in your career." The blonde spoke, stepping closer to the three smaller girls. Aubrey held her breath, her chest starting to burn as the sanitized air ate away at her throat. "The hardest thing in your lives."

Beca nodded quickly, not sure how to respond to the intimidation tactic that was being applied by someone on her own side. She hadn't been back home in years- her own mind running crazy with what it could possibly look like now. A city that she knew like the back of her hand at one point would have morphed and crumbled.

"What exactly do you need us to do, ma'am?" Chloe asked, knitting her eyebrows together as she found her voice.

"RACE." Gail responded matter-of-factly, her gaze whipping to face the red-head. "Reassess, announce, contain, and extract."

"Extract what?" Aubrey asked, lips slightly parted.

"Anyone you can," Gail let out a small breath "Sector Seven will crumble, and I can't have half a population fall under false pretenses, now can I?"

 **The fabric was** soft under her touch, corners folded nicely under meticulous scrutiny. She had tried to get as many wrinkles out as possible, the scent of powdered detergent fresh in her lungs as the girl plunged herself into the prospect of packing instead of facing the inevitable.

"How do you think she'll do it?" Beca asked from the top bunk.

It was a small room, a little cubby that was marked with some obscure number. It reminded Chloe of a submarine the first time she slept here- the creaks of the metal bunker against the wind sounded more like the track they played in every Titanic exhibit across the country. Instead, it was a simple holding room for them to sleep.

There was a set of bunk beds pushed against one corner of the wall, a desk adjacent to that. A small police scanner rested in the corner next to a little lamp. One that usually remained off when the girls weren't reading through the assigned material.

"What?" Chloe glanced up at her counterpart, lost in her own thoughts.

"The city," Beca stared down, knitting her eyebrows "Gail is going to level it. How?"

Chloe shrugged, shoving another shirt into the duffel bag. They were all the same- all dark in some way or another. They weren't given much options here. A few sets of training clothes and of course their standard uniforms.

"There are only so many ways to get rid of a population."

"We can get them out."

"I suppose you want to start with our families, then."

"No." Chloe said gruffly, letting out a small sigh. "We start with anyone who will listen."

Beca simply nodded, swallowing roughly as she lowered her back onto the wall like she had done a million times. Her hands were resting in her lap as the breathed carefully. Silently. The girl glanced up as her mattress dipped slightly, the springs groaning and creaking. Chloe leaned into the duvet where the ladder is, her body draped across the length of the area.

"We'll be okay," She spoke, playing with a bit of fabric that came loose from the rest of the stitching.

"It's not us I'm worried about," Beca admitted, tucking her legs under her chin as she wrapped her arms around them. She was curled up into a little ball, both girls listening to their breath in the otherwise quiet room.


	2. 2: A little shaky

**My fingers have** the tendency to shake. My personal kryptonite when it came to my wishes of becoming a surgeon, or even a vet. I could focus so intently on keeping them steady and precise, but no matter how hard I tried, they would always tremble.

I remember the first time I got a tattoo. The needle, the bright fluorescent lights and the way the man's weight was so heavy against my freezing skin. I had waited outside for about an hour as part of some charity event. The harsh cold and unforgiving temperatures were enough to quell the anxiety that started to form against the inside of my mind.

He told me very carefully "Make sure you stay still."

Right. That was easy enough. I didn't always need to be tapping my foot or twirling a pen. All I had to do was relax into the plush coating of the bed and let him do his work. I remember that day being scary, the feeling of a hot iron nail is the only way I can describe it. But I did, stay still that is. At least I tried too. But the man didn't mention a thing when my fingers started to twitch on the opposite hand.

Maybe my inability to stay still helped fuel the drive it took to get into Barden. The scholarships and trust funds not being enough to really cover my tuition. But it helped knowing someone in the admissions offices. They pulled strings, and I sat with my grasp wavering on a stack of folders and transcripts. They didn't' mention anything either.

The thing I realized most in life, is that people don't seem to want to call you out on things. If you have a piece of lettuce from your lunch wedged between your teeth, they're quick to rush you to the bathroom as a deep shade of red comes to your cheeks. But with nervous ticks like shaking hands? It's a different story.

Beca's gaze would always wander through the years, yet she bit her tongue. It was obvious, the way that she wanted to bring it up in moments that we were alone. In a way, I could keep the nerves from causing them to tremble too much when I focused on the little alternative girl who had a talent for mixing music.

She was different. So much so that she irked Aubrey's anger and interest that I had never seen before. She had to hold things back more- take more control over the way her rage came to mind whenever Beca would bring up a snide, well thought you, comment.

I never objected. Not when the two of them argued like they did. I knew that I wouldn't get a word in edgewise. I would just keep my hands in my pockets and rock back and forth from my toes to my heels. There was no need to push things, not unless they had to be pushed.

Beca was my co-captain and a damn good one. The two of us spent upwards of fifteen hours a week together, mixing tracks and planning out choreography. The two of us lounging lazily in her attic room as Amy snuck around with whatever flavor of the week she decided to taste.

It was during one of these long study sessions that she mentioned my hands.

I was lounging across her bed, the blankets dented under my weight as I let out an exasperated sigh, shoving the book that I was holding to my side as I blinked against the ceiling light that suddenly filled my view. Beca had her feet up on her desk, laptop resting near her knees.

She averted her gaze away from her work as soon as I stretched out my fingers and grumbled in frustration, staring at them for a few moments before closing my eyes. It was hard to read when the words were too distorted to decipher.

"Hey, Chlo?" Beca asked, her voice soft as I moved my forearm over my gaze, trying to blink away the blue light that was obstructing my vision. It was afterlight- something I got when I stared at anything slightly bright for more than a few seconds. I was used to it like I was used to the shaking.

I didn't answer, too lost in my thoughts. They were racing a mile a minute while the bed dipped slightly near my head- the metal springs creaking and groaning under the small DJ's weight. The gentle touch of a finger jabbed into my ribs. Another grumble moving from my throat.

"Chlo?"

"Beca."

"What are you trying to read?"

The question threw me off, I didn't think that would be her first reaction. She had seen me come apart at the seems a couple of times before, but just like everything else she bit her tongue and looked the other way. This time, she curled up into a little ball at the top of the bed and pulled at the pages of the book.

"The history of Japanese theatre," I grumbled, not opening my eyes, anticipating the questions that were sure to flood in. I didn't have the patience to sit through and pick through my psyche. "It's for Drama 108."

"Oh," Beca said in a hushed tone as the silence fell over us once more. I was internally begging, pleading that she starts to just hound me. Press further for something that she wanted, something that she needed to here. She let out a thick sigh as I squeezed the fabric of the comforter, white knuckling it.

"In 1949 critic, director, and producer Takechi Tetsuji began offering brief runs of controversial kabuki stagings in Osaka." The brunette had a soothing voice, one that finally made me whip my head to the side as my eyes widened slightly. "These "Takeuchi Kabuki" were instrumental in nurturing Kamigata."

"Beca," I whispered, listening to her speak softly- not changing her tone. Her features scrunched up every once and awhile at the different names for plays and their creators, but she never faltered, not for a good ten minutes. "Beca."

"Hmm?" She finally glanced up, hair falling into her indigo gaze as she kept both of her hands on either side of the book. She parted her lips slightly, confused on why I had made her stop.

"What are you doing?"

"Reading?" She mirrored incredulously.

I swallowed roughly, my mouth dry as I stared down at the different paisley designs on the covers. "Why?" my voice was barely above a whisper.

"Chlo, something is clearly stressing you out." She said, "I've uh… I've never seen it this bad before. So just let me read to you, okay?"

I stared at her, feeling the lump edge at the center of my throat. No one had ever done something like this without making a big deal about why- yet her was this girl who used sarcasm as her second language, willing to drop everything and read through a history of something she clearly couldn't pronounce.

I sniffed, fighting back the urge to cry as Beca nodded knowingly, flicking her eyes back to the pages of the book. "Okay."

"Today the theatre division of entertainment con-glo-mer-a" She squinted, holding the book further from her stare. "That's a fucky word. I'm skipping it."

I chuckled slightly, getting a glimpse of a whole new side of Beca, one that didn't ask questions. One that kept her focus steady, and slowly wrapped her fingers around mine, even if they were trembling like crazy.


	3. 3: The Other Badge

**Honestly, I'm really thinking about making a part two to this, because it was super fun to write and I'm sure some of you guys would love to see what happens next. Let me know, and please leave some reviews!~ Shelby**

 **THE GUN WAS** weighted in Beca's hand, her finger lazily on the trigger as the mix of plastic and metal found it's exact target. She wasn't nervous, the brunette never felt a spark of anxiety in moments like these. To Beca, this wasn't a talent show where she was testing out her vocal range against a cliché Kelly Clarkson song- no, this was something she knew how to do very well. Detach herself from her surroundings.

The house that she was in did strike a bit of a nerve- the scent of freshly baked cookies thick in her lungs. It was something that usually comforted her after a long and taxing day of classes- but today it only made a thick knot form against her stomach. Her mouth was dry, despite this, a lump in her throat.

Something felt off to the young girl the second she stepped through the gate to the Bella's shared house. They were reserved for sororities, and other prestigious events but the Dean had heard just about enough griping from the group of girls to finally get them their own place on main.

Tonight, however, things were dark. Even if all the Bella's had gone to their respective classes and activities there would surely be a light left on. Chloe had chided about the electric bill and how irresponsible it was but it never stopped the golden glow of a bathroom lamp from seeping into a hallway that was unchecked and unoccupied. This is what had Beca so on edge.

Her breath was short and labored as she kept her pistol lowered to her side, taking careful steps as her boots echoed off the edges of the little foyer that was lined with countless picture frames from past competitions and team building trips a certain ginger had coaxed her into arranging.

Everything was so quiet, everything except for the clear figure that was highlighted slightly by a glassy glow. The patio doors were revealing enough- even without the light or the supposed give away, Beca knew she wasn't alone. Her jaw clenched as the metallic taste of blood coated her tongue. A nervous habit that a little Chapstick could always cure right up.

She was silent as she rushed forward, ignoring the sudden noise as she slammed the figure roughly into the wall closest to her, right by the staircase. A loud crash rang out as a little bowl Amy had made in pottery class tumbled to the ground, it barely missed the strange figure and Beca- the shorter girl secretly grateful to have a way to get rid of the pinched pottery without hurting Amy's feelings- according to the blonde, it was the one thing that she wasn't good at. The house couldn't help but agree. Silently, though.

The figure was soft under her touch, Beca's forearm outstretched against the bulk of what she now knew was a woman's chest. Her knee pinning her down as the gun in her right hand round an easy click flush against a temple. Even in the dark, Beca knew her anatomy well.

What she didn't' expect was the sudden burst of light, not causing her to recoil, but enough to make her squint against the burst of color that coated every inch of the small foyer. Her attacker hadn't flicked the switch, someone else did. Beca was a tiny girl, one against one was pretty rough- but two against one was a stretch. Especially in her own house.

Her steely blue eyes darted over to the little plastic switch, gaze softening as she realized it was Amy who had brought light into the house.

Wait, Amy?

"You see, this is what I'm talking about." The figure under her touch caught Beca's attention, a series of dread running through her as she stared into slate grey eyes. "Weird, right?"

"Legacy, what the hell?" was all Beca could manage as she untangled herself from Emily. She girl finally letting out a thick breath. It was late- she was in sweatpants and an old Bella's shirt with the sleeves snipped off by a pair of craft scissors. Beca was panting, quick to shove her gun back into her black jeans.

"Yeah, I can see your point." Amy pondered, accent thick as Beca's crazed stare flashed back over to her friend. She didn't seem shocked, why wasn't she shocked? Beca had essentially pistol-whipped their newest recruit. "I'm just glad you're not trigger happy."

"Trigger… I'm sorry, what the fuck is going on?"

The blonde finally directed her attention towards the smaller girl as Emily struggled to adjust her shirt the way it was before her captain ambushed her. It wasn't a good idea to sneak up on her, not with her nerves bundled and heart racing.

"You know how I take twenty dollars from your wallet every month?" Amy didn't take a breath before she continued "Well, I found your badge."

"I don't… I mean, the twenty dollars I want to circle back to. But what's the big deal?" The brunette struggled to grasp the situation by its horns. "Yeah, I've been working at a production company-"

"Not the badge Shawshank." Amy tapped her temple. "Your other badge, the metal one."

Of course, Beca knew what badge her shifty roommate was talking about. One that she worked hard enough to obtain- one she had thought about hiding in a lock box away from the sticky fingers of her friends. It was bound to happen one day; them figuring out about exactly what she had been up to before she joined the singing group she now called family.

"Care to explain?" Another sharp voice filled her ears. One that actually made the color drain from her features as her gaze focused quickly on the carpet. Emily and Amy, she could handle- the younger of the two would be happy just to go to an amusement park for the day to forget about her troubles while Amy would settle on a forty instead of a twenty from the woman's wallet.

Chloe was a different story, her mouth taught in an odd expression as she leaned heavily against the doorframe, emerging from the dark clutches of the living room for dramatic effect- part of Beca prayed the rest of the Bella's didn't crawl from the corners of the house just to give the big reveal a little more flare.

"Right, so considering you know what I do…" Beca sounded out, pressing her fingers to her temple in exasperation "You thought it was a good idea to sneak up on me?"

"Oh no," Amy spoke up "That was Emily's idea, and for once I didn't have the heart to go against it."

The youngest girl drew in a shocked breath as she shook her head in dismay. She knew Amy was working too well with her, never going along with a plan. "Are you kidding? Beca could have killed me!"

"I wouldn't have-"

"You were gonna do something dumb at some point Emily might as well fast track it!"

Chloe cleared her throat as she held up a hand, silencing a room. Beca had been in many compromising situations- under the mercy of guns, and knives, even a crossbow one summer in Cabo, but Chloe's deathly gaze was enough to halt everything in the area.

"What are you exactly?" She asked, slowly lowering her hand. "A paid assassin, a spy?"

"If I was a spy I couldn't really tell you-"

"Rebecca Mitchell."

"Yeah, yes." She let out an exasperated sigh "God forbid I wanted to get out of the family business and go get a college education."

She never wanted any of the girls to figure out about her secret hobby. She wasn't even sure if that was the label she would slap onto it. She had killed people, fought for her life against a string of car bandits and even jumped from a few planes without a parachute. But somehow living in a house with upwards of twelve college girls was the biggest challenge.

"A college," Chloe barked, not even knowing how to finish her sentence. "Beca you're a contract killer. How do you expect me to be okay with this?"

"Technically I've only killed two people." The girl thought, shoving her hands in her pockets as she looked back "I usually just knock em' out but if you keep coming at me you're asking for it."

A sharp elbow to the ribs halted Beca, Legacy shaking her head frantically. Chloe looked like one of those cartoon characters that had smoke pouring from their ears as flames how out of their mouths. Beca had never seen the girl this angry- not even when CR threw up in her new purse half-way to regionals. At least then, her caring nature kicking in.

"Alright, Em." Amy mumbled, taking the girl by her shoulders as she shoved her across the wood-paneled floor. "Let's go get ice cream."

"What? I don't even have shoes."

"Oh my god."

The two's voices echoed against the walkway as Emily complained about how freezing the sidewalk was against her bare feet. Beca's mind rushed through the options that were presented in front of her. She wanted to be anywhere but here- Chloe's deep stormy gaze was loud and abrasive despite the quick silence the engulfed the two of them.

She shifted her stance, her boot clacking against the hardwood floor as she rolled her shoulder slightly. They were tight with tension, mouth still like sandpaper as she struggled to find her thoughts. "Chlo, I didn't mean to hide anything from you."

"That's a lie." The ginger hissed, crossing her arms over her jacketed chest. "And the recording studio? Fuck, Beca. You could have told me."

Beca let out a struggled sigh. She had done everything in her power to keep her secret. The long nights stitching up scars and covering bruises with thick foundation over the discolored skin felt useless now.

Chloe was standing close, so close that the scent of her citrus body spray filled every inch of Beca's lungs, making her feel warm and content as she bit the inside of her lip. That cold edge was still close to her abdomen. She was taller than Beca, but not by much- her breath like acid against the girl's collarbone.

"I trust you, Chlo." She whispered, voice breaking "I just don't trust myself."

The chilled edge of the open door behind her almost beckoned her way. It was what her family did- they ran when things got too challenging and coarse. Her fingers twitched under the weight of the cold as Chloe just stared- stared so silently and so pensively that she was close to burning a hole through Beca's skull. She was rooted in her place, however, not wanting to turn her back on a family that had given up everything.

"A spy, huh?" Chloe finally relented, letting out a long breath as she placed her hands on the younger girls hips, her touch like a hot iron as Beca finally let out the cold air building up in her throat. She had felt the subtlety of the girl before, drunken nights where she would get a little too clingy. Or even if the girls had forced them to venture into a haunted house that rolled around during the Autumn months, but it was never like this. Not this gentle or warranted. "So are you like, CIA?"

"You know I can't say," Beca sounded out softly, a little teasing glint in her eyes.

"Don't worry, I'm not mad," Chloe whispered, her words soft as a deep chill ran through Beca's body, her eyes clenching shut as she shuddered, feeling Chloe's body press closer to hers- this was new, but the fuzzy feeling that rocked through her stomach certainly wasn't. She inhaled feeling Chloe moved her body even closer as she ran her fingers over Beca's sides.

"You're not?" Beca mumbled, voice deep and raspy as she curled her fingers into her palm.

"Mmm," Chloe purred, pressing her lips against Beca's forehead softly, her ears ringing as the smaller girls mind clouded. "It's kind of hot, really. You're like James Bond."

Beca hummed into the touch, lost in bliss.

The sudden click of a trigger snapped the younger woman right out of her stupor, lips parting slightly as her eyes shot open in disbelief. The gun. The pistol that was tucked so neatly into the waistband of her pants had its hot metal tip digging into her spine- Chloe's stormy eyes showing flashes of lightning. She had never seen them so dark before.

"James Bond is a terrible spy, Sweetie."


	4. 4: Slip & Slide

**HEY, LITTLE HEADS UP, I WROTE THIS ON MY PHONE A REALLY LONG TIME AGO, AND IT AUTOCORRECTED CHLOE'S NAME TO BE SPELLED DIFFERENTLY. IM SOO LAZY TO CHANGE EVERY SINGLE SPELLING SO THERE WILL BE SOME MISTAKES, BUT ONLY IN THIS FIRST ONESHOT.~ SHELBY.**

* * *

 **The patch of black** ice was barely visible to the human eye, it's slick edges shining in the dull glow of a flickering streetlight. The neighborhood had been pleading with the council to fix the bulb, to stop the rays from flooding houses through cracked blinds and open windows.

Beca's breath was clouding in a thick pool in front of her, the cell phone that was pressed to her ear hot compared to the frigid winter air that snuck through the fabric of her clothes. The scarf that was around her neck was warm, the wool scratching at her skin.

"No, Amy-"She tried to cut her friend off as the girl kept speaking without taking a breath. Beca was tempted to pull the phone away completely, waiting for the break in sentences before she could explain that she was fine, she liked the quiet of the short walk home. "Right, uh-huh."

The girl gave up, pursing her lips as she kept her sights on the sidewalk in front of her, the long string of black gates lead to cement stooped houses. They all looked the same to her. The same shutters, and dead flowers in oddly placed terracotta pots. Behind the green painted doors, Beca couldn't' tell what was happening.

She made it an odd habit to stare whenever there was a break in sheer curtains or blinds. It was a small peek into the lives of strangers without being too invasive. Her mom used to do the same exact thing as they drove down lonely suburban streets, but that didn't seem to matter much anymore.

"Okay," Beca let out a small laugh "Alright, I'll mind the sock on the door."

She shook her head with a dumb grin on her lips, one that Amy always seemed to pull out of her even after an eight-hour shift. Her whole body ached, begging to crawl under warm sheets and putting on some cheesy movie to doze off to.

The slight creaking of an iron gate caught her attention. The shadow of a woman messed with a lock that not many people took time in latching when it got this cold. No one wanted to be out in the first place, much less fiddling with the metal fence.

Beca took a slight step forward, her stare still on the figure as the tip of her boot slid against already hardened ice. The flashing streetlamp to her right was almost disorienting as her balance fell out from under her. Her him collided with the ground, her wrist bending against the will of her body as she struggled to catch her fall.

The breath was knocked out of her as she mumbled profanities, her scarf not doing much to save her from the roughness of the ground in front of her. The air was knocked from her lungs, the brunette struggling to let out a groan of pain as stars flashed in tune with that broken bulb.

"Oh! Oh my god." A soft voice flooded her ears as Beca cradled her throbbing wrist and stared up at the night sky. Despite snow having fallen in sheets earlier, the canvas was clear. It was dark and pitch, the blurry shape of a red mane covered her gaze.

The girl that hovered over her had the sharpest blue eyes that Beca had ever seen; accompanied by a pale complexion and curly hair made heat threaten to rise to her cheeks. She parted her lips, trying to speak, but nothing came out. The ground was cold under her, something she came painfully aware of.

"Are you okay?" The stranger asked, her voice even softer than before. It was wracked with worry. "We've been trying to get someone to fix that light for a long time."

"Have you tried salt?" Beca finally asked, propping herself up on her elbow as she stared at the woman.

"Like table salt?"

"No," She cracked another smile, ignoring the new form of pain that originated in a headache. She wasn't sure if it was due to the long day, or the hard fall that she had just taken. "Like road salt. It melts the snow."

"Hm," The girl cocked her head to the side, reaching a hand down to help the smaller woman to her feet. She let out a groan as she accepted the help, the stranger's hand was smooth, her touch gentle and fluid. "Oh man, you're bleeding."

"Oh?" Beca pressed her fingers to the edge of her hairline where those bright blue eyes were staring. She pulled her hand away, they were coated in a thin resin of rustic color. Her own eyes widened, lips parting. "Would you look at that, I am."

"What are you doing out so late?" The girl asked, her pea coat buttoned up to the top. She had a concerned expression, her fingers wrapping around Beca's arm, to keep her balanced. It was an electrifying touch, one that delayed the girl's answer.

"I'm walking home from work," She eventually sounded out. The sight of blood was always enough to make her woozy. It didn't matter if it was hers, or a ghastly scene on the television, it would make her stomach churn and her mind foggy.

"Alright," The stranger lifted her chin slightly, "You're coming in, no way in hell are you walking back to yours with a cut like that."

"Whoa, you're a stranger." Beca came to her senses a bit, standing her ground as the girl took a step, struggling to avoid the icy puddle. "I don't know you."

"Good point." She stuck her free hand out, "I'm Chloe, Chloe Beale, a nursing major."

"Production and Design, music really." Beca eventually yielded and took her palm, squeezing it slightly as she tried to regain any rational thought path. It was hard- trying to catch onto what she was thinking, that is. The flashing light behind Chole shaded her features in an odd way that reminded her of a 1950's crime drama. She saw the girl as more of a detective instead of a girl in school for medicine.

"Well, hot shot," She said with a small smile on her lips "You're coming to mine, I'll get you stitched up and then drive you home. Alright? It's way too late to be walking out here alone."

"I resent that," Beca spoke as the girl didn't pull her hand away, instead she started to drag the dazed, she too making sure that she avoided the shined surface of black ice. "I am always safe. I know how to defend myself."

"Sure, unless it's a little too cold outside," Chole shot back without turning around "Then you're under the mercy of Jack Frost, huh?"

Beca let out a huff, but she didn't have the energy to fight back. It was true, she wasn't paying attention to her surroundings, instead she was focused on remembering where she put the spare key considering Amy would never open the door for her when she got back. The blonde was way too preoccupied with her own night.

They climbed the brick steps to a nicely decorated door, a holiday wreath was hanging on the green painted surface- it stood out against the other plain surfaces of neighboring houses. The red-head pulled open the door, a patch of golden light matching with the soothing heat that poured from the walkway.

Everything smelled of cinnamon and maybe even nutmeg, it reminded Beca of Santa's workshop, or maybe even a little bakery on the corner of some row of businesses. It was nicely decorated, lightly colored hard-wood floors echoed against their footsteps as Chole lead her guest to the large kitchen.

Beca had never seen the inside of one of these townhomes. It was a lot bigger than she would have guessed. They were modern and complete with white cabinets and black granite countertops. There was a little island in the middle of the kitchen, Chole ushering the disoriented DJ to one of the chairs.

"Nice place you have here," Beca glanced around, flexing her fingers as they tried to get used to the warmth. "I didn't know these looked like… this."

"They usually don't." Chole mumbled as she started to rummage through a large cupboard. She moved a bottle of white alcohol onto the table, Beca trying not to think about how much it would sting against the cut. "I've been here for a while. It used to be my Grandma's place, but she moved to Florida for the warmer weather."

"Ah," Beca lifted her chin "She has good taste, Florida's nice for the most part."

"No, it's not." The taller girl turned back and smiled at the girl "But it has Disney, and in her case, a man with more money than he knows what to do with."

Beca cracked a smile shaking her head as the girl pulled a chair up across from Beca. The legs scraped against the floor, but the sound wasn't too deafening. She could smell the vanilla and strawberry that Chole gave off, the scent of her body wash clashing with the musky one of the coats they wore.

The brunette was painfully aware of how close Chole's knee was to her, the warmth overwhelming the longer she thought about it. She watched carefully as the girl tore open a package of cotton balls before uncapping the alcohol.

"This might sting a little bit," Chole spoke, her breath hot against Beca's collarbone as she placed her fingers gently under the girls chin, turning her head slightly until she had a full view of the gash on the side of her hairline.

Beca sucked in a large breath as the cooling liquid moved against the gnash. She clenched her eyes shut, feeling the exact ripple of pain the Chole said she would. A hand on her knee dulled the ache, though. After three or four soaked cotton balls, Beca didn't even notice it anymore.

Chole pulled away slightly and grasped a bandage that was too big for its own good. She peeled away the wax paper and eventually covered the line that was sure to scar over in the next couple of days. "There you go, all better."

"Thank you," Beca whispered, still staring at the blue eyes of the girl who had just patched her up effortlessly. She dropped her hands in her lap, the two sharing a moment of stale silence before both of them attempted to talk, ending in a fit of nervous laughter. "I uh, I appreciate it. I'm a klutz, and blood makes me nervous."

"Does it?" The ginger raised her eyebrows curiously.

"Mm-hm," Beca nodded with exaggeration "If I tried to do this myself I would have ended up on the bathroom floor a crying mess. I don't even handle splinters well. I'm telling you, one wrong slip on the playground as a kid and I was decommissioned."

The two laughed, filling the large echoing room with a sound other than silence. It was nice for both of them, the pain that wracked through Beca's body didn't bother her as much, and Chole wasn't settled up in bed by herself with a cheesy romance novel. She would usually be studying or sleeping this late, but now all she wanted to do was be with Beca.

"I should get going,"

"oh," Chole grasped her keys from the counter "Let me take you, it's freezing."

"Alright, Red." Beca finally relented a bit, even though she wanted to. She hated feeling powerless, but this was the right kind. She wanted to share as much time with Chole as possible, even though she was a near stranger. "What kind of car do you drive?"

"I resent that," Chole responded, shaking her head with a large smile on her lips.


	5. 5: The Fairy Forest

**[A/N: This is kind of an odd one- but if I'm being honest I was on a little path this morning and I stumbled upon one of these places. It was pretty, and well... it felt like a whole different world. One that I knew would capture Chloe's personality. Hopefully you guys enjoy. Let me know what you think- Unholy Helbig]**

 **The slick cement** made jogging hard- rubber soles hitting the edged pavement with little conviction as air pushed past my lungs. They were burning, irritated against thick movements and rough touches. It was just like gym class, but without the patronizing beeps and sweaty kids that bleed pizza grease.

I was one of those kids, the kind that would hole myself up in my room with a couple of cheesy boxes and crappy video games. I certainly never one to push past my bedroom door and actually put on a pair of running shoes.

But here I was, at 1:30am mid-January wishing for a fast death. One that would put me out of the rough training schedule and cardio that Aubrey Mother fucking Posen had instilled in me. Of course, she said nothing about running in the middle of the night on the trails behind campus- but I also had poor time management and that blonde-haired demon could tell if I skipped a day.

My chest quelled with the pain of a winters touch, my even-paced jog dulling out into a slow trot before I paused at the path's edge, ripping out one of my earbuds. I listened carefully as my breath came out in even puffs, creating a misty cloud that was illuminated by the budding moon.

The little path that I had chosen for my midnight sprint was lined against the back of Baker Hall. It was a little-paved walkway that started right at a lights edge but wound through a spurt of woods behind the campus. It was connected to a larger wildlife park that was a few miles down the road. A lot of people used it for biking or taking out their dogs in a quiet environment.

This late at night it was empty, which is why the startling crack of a hammer caught my attention. It made my heart press into my throat, my other hand dropping as the left earbud drifted over my shoulder. My mouth was dry and sore, nose running from the freshly hedged snow that was collecting near the trees.

I knit my eyebrows together as another crack of iron against wood made me take a slight step back. This time with a little more conviction. I had seen enough horror movies to know that you don't, under any circumstances, follow the weird noises in the creepy forest.

"Mother of God," The voice halted me in my steps- it was muffled and agitated, but one that I knew quite well. One that had bounced off the shower walls a few weeks ago and caught my attention with it's encouraging tone at each and every practice. "Are you kidding me?"

My shoulders slumped. I could keep running, I could take off back in the direction of my dorm and crash before Kimmy Jin got that evil look in her eyes. Or I could check out the situation at hand, not intending to sneak up on the girl the way she had me.

I chose the latter, my arms crossed over my chest as I leaned against one of the trees. I watched carefully. Chloe Beale had a silver flashlight between her teeth, muffling her scrambled speech as she directed the pale light over what looked like a large box.

She stumbled over a root, letting out another quick breath as she found her balance, the strange box catching my focus once more. "This is the weirdest walk of shame I've ever seen."

The startled redhead whipped around, pushing a quick bout of air from her lungs as she snatched the light from her lips with an odd clank. It didn't' seem to pain her though- instead, she busied herself with blocking the box.

"Beca?" She asked the obvious question. "What are you doing out so late?"

"I could ask you the same thing," I pointed a finger her way "I'm just going for a jog because I can't sleep. You, on the other hand, are being weird and creepy."

" _Am not_ ," She swatted my hand away, touch cold and unforgiving. It was a gentle one, though. I wasn't really sure if Chloe Beale was capable of doing anything worse than a simple tap. Either way, she looked agitated. "You know how unsafe it is to wonder these woods without your BU rape whistle?"

I rolled my eyes, but still felt the heavy and cold edge of that very whistle against my back pocket. It seemed almost necessary. "Seriously, Chlo, is everything alright?"

"Everything is fine." She breathed out, she turned her back to me, squatting in front of the box as she started to rummage through it. Whatever it was sounded heavy. "Well, if you're going to stay, make yourself useful."

I nodded absently, grasping the flashlight that she shot back at me, I curled my fingers over it as I squatted down next to her, pressing the marigold edge against the objects. The closer I got the more I realized that they were little brightly painted doors- a few houses that were built out of things found around a hardware store- and a couple of objects that I couldn't quite read, but they looked like little-painted signs.

"Chlo," I started, "What is all this stuff?"

"You don't run this path often?" She said, not answering me directly before she turned her gaze my way and placed her fingers under the silver light- she lifted it up, my hand lagging a bit as I stared her down.

"No, no I suppose not." I hadn't ever been on this part of campus, but I found it safer than jogging around the actual buildings where frat boys tended to finish off entire cases of beer just for fun. In fact, it was Aubrey who suggested this place at the last practice, again, not at midnight, but on any given day.

"When I first started college, I didn't adjust well," Chloe stated, pulling out a few of the doors and setting them down next to the box. "I couldn't sleep most of the time, and until I met Aubrey, I didn't even have the Bella's."

"So you started to come out to the woods in the middle of the night to do what exactly?" I asked carefully, not seeing where she was going with this.

Chloe rolled her eyes, a trait I'm sure she picked up from me at this point. She grasped my hand, pulling me to my feet as she was careful around that root she tripped on earlier. I let her lead me down the path, not objecting as I held the light in front of us. It caught the strange sides of a few houses-

Tiny houses that were alike in craft and perfect in make. The same painted doors and easily carved fences were accompanied by little signs with words I couldn't quite read. It was a magical and empathetic find that made me tilt my head to the side- a tiny town at the base of large oak trees behind a college campus.

"what is all this?" I mumbled, once again squatting down to one of the little houses that had a door drilled into a naturally made hole that the tree had produced after years of weathering. It was beautiful and small, and a little sign stuck out to me. " _Come, Faries, take me out of this dull world, for I would ride with you upon the wind and dance upon the mountains like a flame."_

"William Butler Yeats." I turned to stare at her, resting my hand lazily over my knee as I gazed into surreal blue eyes. Even in the darkness, they showed like the sea. "I uh- I started making these things because they were interesting to me, I didn't expect other people to like them too."

I stood slowly, shoes crushing against gravel. "A fairy forest?"

"Yeah, I suppose." She shrugged her shoulders, pulling her hand up to the back of her neck as she scratched it nervously. "People always say that fairies are invisible… they're magic and strange, but not in a bad way I just- I guess I just feel like them sometimes."

I opened my mouth to speak but was cut off by a sharp and unruly breath that she dragged in. "I know, it's lame. Which is why I do it at 1 am, because god, I make houses for mythical creatures that don't even exist. And you think this is stupid right? It is stupid."

"Chloe," I grasped her arm, cutting her words off as she had her averted gaze flash back to mine. She was struggling to take a deep breath. It was clear that none of the other Bella's, or anyone for that matter, had stumbled upon her secret. "I think it's endearing."

"You do?" She knit her eyebrows together, parting her lips slightly. "It's not childish?"

"No, of course not." I let out a small chuckle. "These are beautiful, Chlo. Everything about this is beautiful- and, and mysterious in a way. If I hadn't of stumbled across you in the forest building them then I'd want to know who was."

She let out a breath of relief, or maybe something more as she ran her hand through her hair. Shaking her head. "It's just a hobby, Bec."

"A damn cool one," I said, turning back to the box "Come on, I want to help. Tell me what to do, Boss."

Chloe stared in a bit of disbelief for a few seconds before snapping out of it. She shook her head with a slight beaming smile. "Uh, grab that hammer,"

I did as she said, forgetting about the chilled weather and the pain that ripped through me because of stupid fucking cardio. Instead, I built houses, little houses in the middle of the forest where other joggers and housewives could get a slight taste of mythically and wonder. Where I could finally get to know the bubbly personality of Chloe Beale.

The one that wasn't so invisible to the very creatures we constructed houses for. The one that was never invisible, to begin with.


	6. 6: Dinner Date

**"Chlo, what are** you doing?" Beca spoke softly, her voice like gravel against rubber bike tires. They were filled up too high, the rocks too small to avoid making any sound other than a rough one. One that made the taller girl drawback almost immediately.

It was a low whisper, Beca stinting her breath at the scent of vanilla extract that Chloe always seemed to carry around; like she had just baked a fresh tray of cookies. It made the smaller brunettes mouth water as she stared into dark eyes, dark eyes that had never been sullener than they were now.

The girl's hand was resting on Beca's chest, right below her shoulder as nails dug into a pea coat that was sprinkled with the slight drizzle that made Beca pull Chloe under the safety of the porch in the first place- the two of them laughing and carrying on between the car and the front door.

"You uh," The ginger backtracked "Beca you,"

She was trailing off into her words, shoving her hand into her pocket as the younger girl ached for a touch that was suddenly taken away. She didn't show it though, instead, she just stilled herself, lifting her chin to allow Beca to finish.

"You asked me to dinner, and I just assumed…" Chloe had never been redder. Blood was rushing to her cheeks as she shifted uncomfortably in the porch light that had been flicked on. It shaded her features in a deep yellow glow that stinted the color of her eyes.

A lowly smirk pressed against Beca's lips as she spoke. "Assumed what? That it was a date?"

She was teasing the girl, having taken her to a fancy restaurant wasn't the best move, but it was the only place that had open seats- not many people in a college town on a Friday night were willing to spend over fifteen dollars on a half-hearted meal. Beca was usually no different, but her stomach was close to consuming itself and Chloe had been holed up in her room all day with nothing to eat herself.

"Well, yeah." She said timidly at first, averting her gaze before her eyes sparked with something other than discontent. Anger filled them instead as she let out a small growl "Yeah, I did, Rebecca Mitchell. I fucking did."

"Rebecca?" The girl asked, used to hearing that type of tone from Aubrey Posen, or maybe even her father but never fun-loving Chloe. The same Chloe who would stop to pet strangers dog and fed the ducks in the park when they quaked loud enough. The same Chloe that was now so close to her that her breath was hot like a red iron.

"You think it's okay to tell me to get dressed up and pay for a meal like that only to claim it's not a god damn date?" She poked Beca in the ribs, not letting the girl recoil at her touch. "That's not alright."

She jabbed her a few more times before Beca let out an exhausted sigh and grasped her cold fingers, squeezing them slightly as Chloe pouted under the hold. She didn't attempt to pull away, instead, she grumbled in an odd frustrated tone.

"Chloe," Beca scoffed "Relax, please."

"Relax?"

"Yes, relax." The brunette said diligently as Chloe drew in a huge breath, hair falling into her dark gaze. "I didn't assume it was a date because I didn't know you wanted it to be."

There was an awkward shared silence between the two, the sound of passing cars and lulled engines would push against their senses every once and a while, Beca never letting go of Chloe's hands. She didn't want to- not when they were so soft and welcoming. They had always been.

"You what?"

Beca let out a deep sigh as she closed the distance between the two, her hand cupping against the back of Chloe's neck as she pressed her lips softly against the Gingers. The girl had tried this earlier, breath just as hot as she stiffened against the shared touch. She didn't melt right away, her fingers pressing against Beca's ribs as she pulled her flush.

Chloe tasted like mint, her tongue running over Beca's bottom lip as she begged access that the smaller girl soon granted, letting out a small grunt that only seemed to encourage Chloe, the cool effect of a fall night not biting as hard against their fingertips.

"Chlo," Beca pulled away, breath faltering as she pressed her forehead against the other woman's, those stormy blue eyes hardened and lustful. "I don't kiss on the first date."


	7. 7: My Sunshine

**Beca wrapped her** arms carefully around her girlfriend, hugging her close as rough shutters rocked through the girl's body. She had never been this upset- tears streaking down her cheeks and dribbling off her chin as snot began to rush against the base of her nose.

The smaller woman rested her head on her girlfriend's, arms snaked around her waist as the two sat uncomfortably on the pantry floor. The room dark and desolate aside for some month-old chocolate chips and uncooked bags of popcorn. It gave the room an odd scent- one that accompanied the slight sliver of golden light that worked its way under the door.

Beca was never good at the confronting thing, always swallowing down her feelings like it was bile threatening to rise past her lips instead of a normal human emotion. She would shut herself away and keep from letting secrets exposed. It made her seem cold. Hell, she was cold. Cold with anyone other than Chloe. The Bella with the mane of fiery hair had made her soft, but she didn't mind.

Chloe had fallen into a puddle as soon as she passed the threshold of the door. The poor girl probably thinking she could escape through the frame into a garage or a bathroom. Maybe even a basement, but instead she was met with a wall of food. It was her birthday. This was supposed to be a happy day, one full of friendship and love- but instead, she was curled up in Beca's lap, clenching onto her girlfriend's chest.

"Shh," Beca cooed, trying to calm the woman down as she rubbed small circles on the nave of Chloe's back. She opted not to talk, knowing that Chloe had received the dark phone call that her busy father couldn't make it to the party tonight. He was a surgeon- head of surgery really. It didn't surprise the brunette, but Chloe still held onto childish hope that he would put her above his career.

"He was supposed to be here." She spat into Beca's chest, digging her nails deeper into her collarbone. Her eyes were clenched. "He promised. And he… he just bailed like he does on everything else."

She swallowed thickly before continuing.

"He didn't go to the performance at the Kennedy Center. Or, or graduation… Beca, he hasn't been to a birthday party since I was four years old. Four." Her voice teetered out to a low whisper. "I hate my birthday. The stupid candles, and god that song. The song is so incessant. Who came up with that song?"

"I don't know, baby." Was all Beca could muster, squeezing Chloe's shoulder with utmost precision. She didn't know. She didn't know why Richard Beale was such a terrible father, or why people opted to put so many candles on cakes and sing that god- awful tune. But she did know her girlfriend. Her girlfriend who was shaking with fear and rage.

Beca started to hum, a soft tune that her own mother would use to lull her to sleep. It was melodic and melancholy, something that had gotten her into mixing music in the first place. It instantly moved against her throat as Chloe stiffened in her grasp for a second before melting into the girls hold.

 _"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,"_ Beca began, her words a soft murmur as she held Chloe flush against her, the girl struggling past a clogged nose and scratchy throat. _"You make me happy when skies are grey."_

Chloe's breath was evening out, steadying.

 _"You'll never know dear, how much I love you, please don't take my sunshine away."_ Beca moved back into humming the rest of the tune, not completely faithful in her knowledge of the lyrics as Chloe finally released her death grip on Beca's chest, still clenching a bit of fabric between her fingers.

Beca never knew much about that song, but she knew it reminded her of the girl in her arms. And besides, it was way better than Happy Birthday.


	8. 8: Sick Day

**Beca let her** keys fall onto the table with a dull thud, regretting the choice to not let Chloe drag that decorative bowl into their shared apartment. The table wasn't' even that expensive but the small girl cringed away from the thought of the dull edge scratching the surface.

She pulled the suitcase in behind her, its weight not too bad, but bad enough to form a nagging ache at her shoulder- her mother following close behind as she closed the door as softly as she could. That wasn't' too hard considering the older woman's genuine nature.

"Chlo, we're home!" Beca called out, flipping on the light in the foyer to give them a better view before she proceeded to peel off her dark cotton gloves and leather lined jacket. Most of the time, the coat did nothing for her- but she wore a sweatshirt under the garment this time, knowing Chloe would fuss if she didn't.

She didn't' get an answer, but that wasn't surprising. It was apparent when she left for the airport that Chloe wasn't feeling the best. She wasn't running a fever, but she looked pale; her skin grey and at a lost for color. What she was shocked to see was Chloe humming softly at the stove, headphones in as she stared down at a pot of soup- or maybe even boiling water. Beca couldn't tell.

A small smile graced her lips as she gave her mother a kind shrug, the woman watching in amusement as her daughter tapped on the Red Head's shoulder with ease- the girl drawing in a sharp breath as she pulled out one of her earbuds and gasped- well, as much as she could. Her nose was blocked up, culminating in some odd sound.

"What are you doing?" Beca asked, her tone accusatory as she leaned heavily against the fridge, staring at the girl in front of her.

"Making soup," Chloe chirped innocently, shooting a beaming smile towards Beca's mom. "How as your flight, Karen?"

Her voice was rough, it was worse than when Beca left, causing a taut look to pass the smaller woman's features as she looked at the two women in front of her. "It was good! A little bumpy, but what flight isn't. Are you feeling okay dear?"

"No, she isn't" Beca interjected, her tone detrimental. "Which is why I told her to lay down."

The older girl grumbled with discontent as Beca snaked her arm around her midsection, pulling her away from the stove as she ushered her into the living room. It wasn't a far walk, and thankfully, Chloe wasn't resisting- feeling the pain of the day catch up with her already aching body. Karen stepped aside with an amused look on her face as she watched her daughter work.

She had her head cocked to the side, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth as she placed her hand on the granite counter top. She watched as Chloe was shoved down onto her back, a brown blanket draped over her as she groaned throughout the whole entire process- she had a certain type of look in her eyes, one with a glint of not only admiration but earth-shattering love.

"I'll bring your soup, okay?" Beca asked, knitting her eyebrows together as she knelt in front of the ginger, pressing the back of her hand against Chloe's flushed cheeks. "You're coming down with a fever."

"Bec's, I'm fine." Chloe croaked out, regardless of how heavy her eyes were "You just drove four hours from the airport, I'm not-"

"Moving a damn muscle." Beca finished with a harsher tone as she brushed Chloe's hair from her deep cobalt eyes. "Stay here."

She got a discontent huff but Chloe made no moved to pull herself from the tightly tucked blankets Beca had draped her in. Instead, she watched carefully as the girl stood and made her way back to the kitchen, not showing any sign of exhaustion. "Want some soup, mom? I promise it's not crawling with germs."

"I would love some," Karen said, the hint of a smile on her face as Beca hummed in acknowledgment.

Beca's mother let her gaze drift back over to Chloe, the girl's eyes growing heavier by the second. She had her mouth slightly agape as she snored against the build-up in her nose. She had never seen Beca care so much about one person- not in a very long time.

"She makes me happy," Beca finally said, placing a hot bowl of soup in front of her mother, the broth, and noodles making her mouth water as she knit her eyebrows together and shot a glance towards her daughter. She looked uncomfortable, hand cupping the back of her neck. "Chloe makes me really happy,"

"She's uh-" Karen was worried about the young girl hearing her daughter, not knowing if Beca was eager to speak about the elephant in the room just yet.

"She's fast asleep." Beca chuckled softly. "And she knows, mom. She knows."


	9. 9: Twister

**"This all boils** down to skill," the brunette mumbled through clenched teeth. She was taunting her, teasing her like it was her damn job. At this point, it was. Her muscles were sore and fingers were shaking, but she knew one thing. She could not let Chloe win.

"Are you saying I don't have the skills necessary to win?" her girlfriend piped up, breath hot on the back of Beca's neck.

The two girls were entangled, their limbs a mess as Beca struggled against the taller girl's weight. It wasn't like she was holding her up- Chloe was more than capable of doing that herself- but she was stuck under the woman: the mat slippery under her touch.

All of the brunette's joints ached, her mouth dry as she struggled to catch her breath. She had to admit, this game was a lot easier when they were younger- not with the stiff muscles that came from years of college and emotional distress. Okay, and this was supposed to be fun, but Beca still lets out a growl in annoyance at it all.

"Left hand, red."

"What?" Beca asked, blowing her hair out of her eyes. Her Left hand was already on green- the color almost mocking her. She had to get her grasp over Chloe and all the way across the mat in order to have a fighting chance.

"Too hard for you?" Chloe griped, a sly smirk pressing against her features. That lit a fire against the woman- her jaw clenched as she stray hairs from her eyes. No, it wasn't too hard for the smaller girl- she wasn't giving in to her girlfriend just yet. The boobs pressed against her back didn't' help too much, but she refused to acknowledge that either.

"Shut up Beale." Was the only response the older girl got. It elicited a bit of a chuckle, but even Chloe had to admit, this was starting to get to her as well. Sweat was beading against her collarbone as hair started to adhere to her forehead. She sniffed, watching carefully as Beca moved her left hand until her fingertips touched the edge of the red circle. Her whole entire shoulder was on the mat along with her cheek.

"Alright, Right foot yellow."

Chloe drew in a sharp breath but didn't say anything at the risk of starting something she couldn't finish. Instead, she let out a small whimper as her foot finally crumpled against the plastic covering. "You know, Bec's when you said you wanted me to be on top of you tonight, I didn't think this was the way you would go."

A sharp knock at the door cut off the sarcastic remark that danced at the edge of the DJ's mind. Their heads whipping towards the sound, well, as much as they could. Chloe almost regretted the motion right away- close to losing her balance over the rough sound.

"Get the door," Chloe whispered, her voice thick.

"What? No way dude, I'm not giving in that easy." She shook her head "Come in!"

"I can't!" The voice of a Bella moved through the oak door "It's locked."

"Fucking hell, Stacie." The younger girl cursed, shaking her head "What do you need?"

"Uh, my phone?"

Chloe was the first one to sigh this time. She knew the taller woman needed that thing. If she didn't' have her focus on social media at least half the time it would lead to her trying to rip Amy's throat out with her bare teeth- the captains knew their girls like the back of their hands.

"Alright, Seriously, get the door."

"Chloe, You're the one on top of me."

"But you're smaller… you can just shimmy out."

"You automatically have to get up and answer it now after using that god-awful word."

The ginger huffed, clenching her jaw. She knew Stacie would be quick to bust open the door or make some random comment about how the two girls were easily relieving some stress. Beca let out a small groan, knowing that someone this was the more compromising position.

The girls catching her playing board games with Chloe? Damn, she would never live it down.

"Just give in, Beca." The older woman taunted.

A sly smirk moved against the younger girls lips. "You wish."


	10. 10: Cursed

_**Bechloe Prompt - Chloe is cursed, whoever looks into her eyes will turn to stone. So when she bumps into Beca Mitchell, she's curious as to why when Beca looks into her eyes. Beca doesn't turn to stone**_

 **When Chloe was** four years old, she choked on an ice cube. It was her earliest memory, stopped in some random fast food restaurant on the way to Wildwood New Jersey. Her little feet were kicking back and forth, her mom having to keep a firm arm across her midsection to keep her back against the cheap plastic booth.

The ice had come along with the sweeping gulp of blue energy drink. The kind that had way too much sugar for her tiny body, but not enough to keep her awake at night. She had coughed first, catching her father's attention the moment he got a look at her paled features. He scooped her up, pulling her flush against him.

Chloe could remember panicking, crying almost immediately as the patrons around the restaurant stared in sweeping silence. He pressed his palm into her back, moving quickly as she coughed a few more times and finally got the feeling of air back into her hissing lungs.

She felt that same rush of cold now- that same ache that filled her chest as she dug her fingers into the pavement until they stung cruelly. Chloe felt icy, Chloe felt like she had just choked and that there was no one there to pull her into their arms and soothe her.

Instead, she groaned under the weight of another. An elbow shoved into her ribs, a knee too close to her midsection, and more importantly, a cheek on her chest, not hugging her close, but pressing so far into her that a heat seared against her skin. Chloe groaned at the rough ache that hit her like a truck. Half of her body was sprawled against the malleable grass, the lower edge digging into the stone asphalt.

"Ow, fuck." The stranger mumbled, her whole body vibrating with the muffled words. Chloe wanted to shiver at the hot breath basting the side of her throat. She moved her arms, pressing her palms into the dirt as she lifted herself away, still hovering as Chloe blinked wordlessly at the overcast sky. "You okay, dude?"

Chloe inhaled sharply, clenching her eyes shut as she strung her now free arm over her stare. She couldn't let this woman see her eyes. Her glasses the only priority that was getting under her skin at the moment. She could deal with a little blood, she could accept the torn clothes and the painful morning after. But she needed those glasses.

"Hey," the small flash of brunette that she thought she saw before she tumbled to the ground placed a cold thumb under her chin. "Are you okay?" She repeated tenderly. "Can you open your eyes?"

"I'm fine, really," Chloe mumbled out, hearing the exasperation in her words. She didn't' sound fine, and nothing about that made the girl straddling her happy.

"Then open your eyes."

She made one small attempt to grasp at the ground around her for the sunglasses. She had no such luck. The dropping pit in her stomach seemed to grow slowly. She edged her stare, blinking rapidly at the bright light that filled the air. She hadn't seen the sun- hadn't stared into anyone's unwavering eyes, for months. For years that dragged on in her mind.

Midnight orbs blocked out the overwhelming light. Chloe's breath hitching as she waited for the worst- the cherry on top of the darkness that shrouded her. The quad was empty, the day waning as classes pulled the student body into their clutches. They were alone, and Chloe was wracked with fear.

"There we are," The stranger said, "Your pupils look a little dilated."

"I just got tackled." Chloe ghosted.

In truth, she was baffled. The curse, her family's misfortune, made it impossible to pull her sunglasses away from her eyes without creating a few more garden ornaments. It started when she turned fifteen and accidentally turned her hamster into a paperweight. Not the greatest memory, but it got the lesson across. No matter what, she had to keep her aviators over her stare.

This stranger, this person who crashed into her, stared plainly at her. Not convulsing on the floor as stone worked its way through her veins. Not gasping as she lost any sense of life she had left behind her eyes. Not the way Chloe's mother had told her it would happen.

Yet, she waited, waited in stunned silence as she held her breath. She had paled, hair falling into her gaze as she stared head-on into the woman's eyes. "Sorry, I wasn't watching where I was going."

"You're fine," She breathed a response, glancing around frantically as she finally spotted her glasses and pulled them onto her features. The stranger was warm against her skin, legs moving to a straddled position against her stomach. "Sorry, the sun it…"

"I get it, you're like a vampire or something." She waved her hand in front of her face. "The sun is your mortal enemy."

"Not quite." Chloe couldn't help but chuckle at that, earning a triumphant smile from the woman before she rolled herself away from the redhead. It was cute, leaving a fuzzy feeling in her throat as she propped herself up on her elbows.

"I'm Beca." The girl stated, still sporting the mix between a smirk and a toothy grin on her face. She was collapsed into herself on the grass, scratching her hand through her head as she lifted her chin. "Human wrecking ball."

"Chloe," She reached out a hand, maybe to be pulled up to a sitting position, maybe to be polite. "Vampire queen, apparently."

"Oh, you've promoted yourself to queen now?"

"If I'm undead it's the least you can grant me."

She got a huff in response. The girl officially taking her hand and pulling her up. Chloe couldn't help the jump in heat she felt the moment those fingers collided with hers. She swallowed it back. This was a fluke, it had to be- no way could a girl like this a human girl who wasn't plagued down with an ancient snaky curse, be immune to her stare. It was unheard of.

"Where were you off to in such a hurry?" Chloe dared to ask.

"Biology lab," Beca shrugged innocently. "But I was thinking about blowing it off anyway. We're just looking at cells." She stilled for a moment. "Maybe we should… I would like to buy you coffee considering I ran you down?"

"I would like that," Chloe said despite her reserves. Despite the fact that this woman wasn't a statue, and that the color in her cheeks drained a little more each time Beca flashed her dusky gaze. "If you're not too afraid."

"Afraid?" Beca let out an exaggerated scoff, waving her hand in front of her face. "What's there to be afraid of, Chloe?"


	11. 11: Fallen Angels

_**Bechloe Prompt - Beca is a fallen angel (a high ranking one) that's been cast out for unknown reasons and has been living in the mortal world for centuries (she doesn't want to go back). Chloe is a demon that wants to know why Beca has been cast out and has been pestering her ever since they met.**_

 **Night had fallen** hours ago. The pink skies faded to a deep velvet black that overwhelmed the whole entire city. The whole set of football fields that held floodlights. Floodlights that ran against the brown and deadened grass. The numbers were painted onto the ground in white powder, breath pushing past grates that connected to maroon helmets.

Beca Mitchell kept her focus on the matt black sky. She was freezing to death, shivering in her jacket. The scent of fries filled her lungs as she clenched onto the little bucket that the snack car had handed her. Her stomach rumbled, of course, it would betray her in a time like this. A time when she was trying to make an excuse to head back home. The safety of her bedroom calling.

This was a big night for her school, what she had assumed as her school. The Fayetteville Lions were up against Carson's Knights. Their Royal blue jerseys clashed with crimson. Beca leaning on the chain link fence as she stared despondently at her makeshift meal. Stacie had ditched her for some ball boy about twenty minutes ago. Twenty long minutes that she cursed herself for not driving tonight.

"Hey, do I know you?"

Beca let out a long sigh, part of her not wanting to look over at the stranger who had leaned close to the fence herself. She draped her arms over the metal edge. She held a little flag, one that flashed blue. The brunette almost felt disdain towards the woman from another school. They had made such a big deal- it felt like fraternizing with the enemy.

"Oh, I doubt it. I'm new in town." Beca finally willed herself to look to her right. The woman had struck her as nothing less than gorgeous. A being that had fire-filled locks, flowing over her own leathered jacket. Her breath was pushing past perfect pink lips. She wore a bit of a smile, one the exposed crystal white teeth. Her canines were pointed, not unnatural, but certainly captivating.

Beca found herself awestruck, shoving her container a bit her way. "Fry?"

"Thanks," She plucked one out of the package, getting a goofy grin on her lips. "I'm sure I know you from someplace. Where did you say you moved from?"

"I didn't," Beca squinted, a bit lulled into the conversation. There was something, something about this girl that made her want to keep talking. Ever since she got here, she knew that she wouldn't fit in. She was awkward and strange, and somehow, she had gotten along with a few choice girls at this hell-hole of a prison. High School.

"Right," the stranger nodded, pushing the fry into her mouth as she spoke, her words muffled "I remember your wanted posters. Beca Mitchell, your father is Haniel Mitchell."

Beca choked on air, coughing a few times into the dark air that surrounded them. Her feet didn't' feel firmly planted on the race track that surrounded the football field. She could hear the buzzer signaling the end of the half-time press against the inside of her ears. It would have made her flinch if her stare wasn't so focused on the stranger with the icy eyes.

"What'd you do?" She said, a deep smile on her lips. Menacing. "Must've been bad if they kicked you out of Heaven and sent you here."

"That is none of your concern." Beca scoffed, turning to her side as she dropped the fries into the trashcan with a loud clang. She brushed her palms off. Beca wanted to stay and talk, she wanted to figure out more about the gorgeous stranger. She shoved her cold hands in her pockets, keeping her head down as she walked towards the parking lot.

"Oh, come on, wings." The woman caught up with her easily with a small trot. "Listen, I'm not one to judge."

"Is that so?" Beca said, bemused.

"Nope," She smirked, "cross my heart."

The woman made a mock gesture against her chest, a little 'x' like there was a bit of treasure resting against the fabric. It made Beca smirk, shaking her head despite herself. This girl was something else, practically hopping out of her boots at the thought of someone else other-worldly. Someone else that didn't belong here.

"Something terrible," Was all Beca said, keeping her eyes forward. They were glossy. "What about you, Red? You clawed your way out of the depths of hell to what? Join debate team?"

"How'd you know I was a demon?"

It was Beca's turn to smile. She had her ways, most importantly, each time the light flicked against those striking blue eyes, they gleamed red. Such a bloody color that almost seeped into her stare, pulled at her resolve. She stopped, the stranger knocking against her shoulder with a bit of a shocked huff.

"Your eyes, sweetheart." Beca lifted her eyebrows. "They're a dead giveaway."

"Okay," She blinked a few times at the pet name, Beca liked the way the demon squirmed. She hadn't provided a name, how else was she to be addressed after pushing herself this close to her. For a demon, she smelled a hell of a lot like strawberries. "Chloe works fine."

"Chloe isn't very menacing," Beca observed.

"Right, not like Satan or anything like that." Chloe waved her hand around erratically barely phased by the blunt nature of the girl. She was abrasive and grumpy, the opposite of what an angel should be. Maybe a fallen one living up to the reports. "Who'd you scorn?"

Beca rolled her eyes, a simple thought running through her mind. This Chloe character was not one to give up in her pursuits. She was steadfast, not backing down as she stared at the brunette. Part of her wanted to speak, but the other knew that her association with a demon would add another 100 years to her sentence.

"Raphael." Was all Beca said, a bit of a huff to her voice as she slipped through the little opening of the fence out into the student parking lot. They could hear the roar of the crowd, smell the gasoline that filled their lungs. It was quiet, muffled.

Chloe had kept her silence, her boots apparent. Snow had begun to fall, had floated through the black of the night. It was one of the beautiful things Beca found solace in. The snow reminded her of the clouds, and home, and everything she had lost. Everything she craved to find again.

She mentally cursed herself as she reached Stacie's car. The woman was nowhere to be seen, and she hadn't shaken Chloe yet- not that she really wanted to. She found the girl interesting. A demon who had chosen to show her face among a student body instead of torturing damned souls.

"Much like Ramiel, I was to take a wife." She spoke, a bit of bitterness in her voice as she sniffed. She liked the way the icy flakes started to find a home in Chloe's hair- her coppery locks highlighted by the streetlamp that had an unnatural neon tone to it. "Not of any volition to my father."

"You're fallen because you fell in love?"

"Something like that."

Chloe swallowed back the dry taste in her mouth. The two of them listened to their breath. The brunette was watching the cloud that pushed past her lips, watching how far it stretched and how long it took to disperse. There was another loud buzz. One that signaled the final quarter's start.

"How long?"

"A century."

She let out a low whistle. It was a cruel punishment for the prospect of happiness. "You know, Demons can love anyone they want." Chloe took a step back. Her boot left a black print in the snow. She had stood still for too long. "Human, demi-God, angel."

Her voice smoothed out during that last word, breathy as she dared to take another step towards the stadium. Beca ached. These past few moments she wanted nothing more than to get rid of Chloe. To go back to her stalemate of a life. One where she could pretend to care about the drama that ran through the halls. Who had slept with who. What person had an older sibling to buy the alcohol for the upcoming party. But now, all she craved was her normalcy.

 _"Invenies rursus amore"_ Chloe spun lightly, turning her back to the angel. "See you around, Mitchell."

Beca let the weight of her mind push her side against the side of the car. She watched Chloe walk away, knowing that the young demon purposely swayed her hips a little harder. She knew that Beca was watching, couldn't take her eyes away from her. her mouth was slightly agape, her breath low and unrecognizable.

Just like that, the woman was gone. And Beca? Beca finally saw a reason to risk another century.


	12. 12: For Old Times Sake

_**PROMPT: Can you do 73. "Can I at least buy you a coffee? For old times sake"**_

 **Her pension for** ignoring the obvious was something that Chloe Beale had always hated about herself. It wasn't that she didn't' pay attention, because she did, really. It had to do with the simple fact that she was the type of person to go all in when it came to everything. When she focused, she focused with every inch of her being. When she smiled, it was the brightest thing in the world. When she loved she loved with her whole self, and when she was wounded- when she was wounded it was all she could feel.

Chloe Beale felt like she had a hole right where her heart should be.

That was the deepest and darkest pain she ever allowed herself to feel; Sure, she was sore. Her body ached at the constant sobbing that ripped at her throat the past few days. Her eyes were red and burned. Her nose raw as she tried to muster enough confidence to keep her throat from collapsing.

She had forced herself into the cold Brooklyn winter for one thing, and one thing only; being human. It had been a week since she walked in on her husband and _her_ receptionist. How Cliché. The man she had given every ounce of herself to went to the woman who she trusted with her trade secrets. Chloe threw both of them out before stifling her cries enough not to wake her daughter. Her sweet five-year-old daughter who was just as preceptive as her mother.

That night she called Aubrey, barely able to speak, but with her, she didn't' really need to say much. She offered to take Ava for the week and Chloe readily agreed. She had to sort things out- she had to wordlessly pack Gabriel's things and call up a lawyer that would be powerful enough to ensure that she had prime custody of their daughter. Everything so heightened and real that she didn't' allow herself to feel, she didn't allow herself to do anything other than keep herself busy.

Of course, that hadn't lasted. And Chloe found herself curled up in a tight ball on the cold tiled bathroom floor at three o'clock in the morning when her mind wouldn't settle, and her tired eyes refused to close. She had lurched a few times, emptying the contents of her stomach until there was nothing left but a sickly bile.

The next morning, she forced herself to clean up the best she could, until she looked presentable enough to head to the nearest coffee shop (though, that wasn't too hard to do in the brunt of New York City.) Which is exactly why she found herself in this situation now.

Her hurt had washed away for a split second as a flash of guilt ate away at her. The icy sidewalks giving way to a rushed attempt at getting back home. Back to the heat and back to the little corner, she had designated to herself in her dark bedroom. Her fingers clenched the Styrofoam cup in her hand, the hazelnut liquid never giving way to her lips.

Instead, it ended up coating a near stranger- a woman who kept her head down as her arms lifted a bit, eyes undoubtedly focused on the now scalding liquid that dripped down her jacket and created a small puddle on the ground. It was freezing by now, the collar of a white button-down peaking from the black peacoat, the woman's own coffee and the little bag of pastry resting in her right hand.

She glanced up then- her breath catching, no longer sprouting little clouds into the air. Her nose looked raw from the cold, her lips slightly parted as she finally let the little edge of breath puff out in a long-awaited release.

Beca Mitchell looked older.

Her once spark-filled midnight stare still had a certain glow behind it, but it was wiser, it was more in tune with the person she had become. Her hair fell against her shoulders in perfect waves, her shoulders more defined and her stance a little less like a freshman majoring and music, and a little more like a CEO managing a major record company.

Chloe had kept up with the headlines for a bit. It was painstaking, so much so that she would mute the words on her timeline after a while and stop answering the messages from publicists that would inquire about her little fling with the uprising talent in the music world. Chloe was starting a family after all, and she had her education to focus on. Not the girl she used to- still maybe does, have feelings for.

Beca's eyes quickly softened, maybe noticing the redness of Chloe's, or the broken pieces that the woman hastily tried to cover up with a half-hearted smile, and a rushed apology that came out in a hoarse response. She cursed herself. Her own voice betrayed her.

"Chloe Beale mustering out an apology is the last thing I ever thought I would hear on a Wednesday morning." Beca lifted a pointed eyebrow. The same Beca that she knew and loved and missed so heavily was right there behind the business façade.

"Well, I did just pour a whole entire cup of coffee down your shirt."

"Then let me buy you one." She lowered her arms, running her fingers against the stain as she let a few drops wick its way into the fabric, most of it flicking off to another destination. "For old times' sake."

Chloe hesitated. She had just spilled a scalding drink over this woman. But it wasn't just any woman. It was Beca Mitchell. The same girl who hated acapella but ended up leading the group in college with her hand in hand. The same girl who taught her the value of family, and going for what you believe in. The same girl who she thought she let go when LA came into the picture.

The same girl she didn't' even invite to her own wedding.

"Beca," She warned, "I'm buying."

"Yeah, but I still have my drink. It's yours that got spilled. Remember?"

She was stubborn and persistent. The glint glowing harder against her stare as she held the door to the little hole in the wall shop back open. Chloe hesitated, but it soon melted away the second she felt the heat that the stone fireplace in the center of the establishment created. And really, if she was to deprive the warmth from Beca (who was without a doubt going to catch a cold now) then what kind of a person was she?

Chloe ducked her head and entered the shop, watching carefully and quietly as Beca easily shed her jacket and placed it on the coat rack by the door. The white of her shirt looked dull in the dimmed lights- and her stare flicked over towards the counter, almost as if asking permission. Chloe nodded softly, following her as she ordered the same thing she always had- a medium cup of coffee with four sugars and two creamers.

They sat at a little table that exposed them to the crackling fire and kept them away from the draft of the door. It was tiny, and Chloe could practically feel the heat of Beca's knee close to hers. The girl stared at her name written on the side of her cup, not daring to take a sip of the hot liquid just yet.

"How have you been?"

"we don't' have to go through the small talk, Chloe." Beca said gently "Aubrey called me."

This made her sharp eyes snap up, sitting back in her chair. Why would Aubrey call her? They hadn't spoken in close to six years- Beca Mitchell was certainly not someone Chloe thought Aubrey willingly associated with. But then again, maybe Chloe didn't' know who the blonde aligned her connections to.

"So, I suppose you know everything."

"Not everything. But enough."

A bit of a scoff moved past Chloe's lips. This wasn't the conversation she thought she would be having with Beca Mitchell. Frankly, she assumed that she would never hear from the woman again. Maybe if they both showed up at their five-year reunion, but neither seemed to answer the invitation that most of the Bella's responded to with absolute joy.

"Don't' do that." Chloe said "Don't give me that stupid little head tilt. I don't need you to be sorry for me."

"Oh, I'm not." Beca took a calculated gulp of her coffee, wincing at the bitterness. "I could have told you that Gabriel was an asshole from the beginning." Chloe winched. "He's named after a fallen angel, for fucks sake."

"That's just in the movies, Bec's."

"Right," She knit her eyebrows together "But all movies have to be inspired by something."


	13. 13: Serious Conversations

_**PROMPT: Can you do something where Vampire Chloe and Vampire Beca tell their kids what they really are?**_

 **The brunette stared** at the wooden grain table as if she could burn a hole into the surface. A dusky stare traced the little faces that were cemented with a clad gradient. She was tempted to reach her fingers out and trace them to ease her nerves- but she knew that would look like she was back in middle school. Shoved into the corner of the room as she waited for a higher authority to hiss towards her for whatever she had done to land her there in the first place.

Chloe's hand was resting on her knee, squeezing against the tension in her leg as her other hand gripped the handle of a cup of coffee that filled Beca's lungs sourly. The steam looked darker against the red painted walls of their kitchen, the smaller woman flicking her gaze towards the golden watch against Chloe's wrist. It was almost 3:15.

"Relax, Bec's" The girl to her right spoke tenderly. "We _raised_ them."

"Which is why I know they're not going to take this well."

Chloe couldn't help but smile at that. Her wife looked like an awkward mess, daring to run her fingers through those brown locks. She had a couple of nervous habits, which made it impossible to play a game of poker with her. But for the most part, Beca kept her calm, she always had. Always putting the older of the two before her for as long as Chloe could care to recall.

"Delia will probably pass out." Beca shifted completely, turning to her side as she draped her hand over the back of the dining room chair. "Five dollars that she's going to faint."

"I am not betting on my child," Chloe gasped in faux shock. "And she'll be fine."

Beca nodded thoughtfully. Their youngest would be okay, she decided. There would be questions, and they would answer them the best they could without scaring the six-year-old more than she already was at the sight of her moms sitting so easily and quietly at a kitchen table at three in the afternoon. It was Florence that would be stunned into silence- something that was hard for the girl.

Everything froze the second they heard the door creak open. Chloe tightened her stance despite seeming confident about the situation. They could catch pieces of the conversation, Delia chattering on about something that happened in class today- her sentences as coherent as they could be.

Florence was nodding along as she pulled her backpack closer to her shoulders, slowing her walk to let her little sister catch up with the movements. The girl was tall for her age, fourteen and strong in her stance. She looked every bit like her mother, brown hair and sharp features complimented eyes that shown like Chloe's- strikingly blue. Earth-shatteringly so as they flashed towards her parents.

She stopped fast enough to have the spunky redhead collide with her leg, she let out a small grunt of a sound before glancing towards the dining room. "Oh! Hi Mommy!" Delia's stare moved to Beca "And mom!"

The little girl let out a bit of a squeal that made Beca's heart melt. She had to admit, she didn't get a chance to see them as much as she would like when it came to things like this. The studio having a complete hold on her as a smile broke out on her lips. Delia ran forward, waiting to be scooped up by her mother as she was pulled onto her lap- Beca wrapped her arms around her daughter, her toothy grin enough to make all the tension wash away.

Florence was a little warier, her shoulders slumping slightly as she cocked an eyebrow at Chloe. "What are you two doing home?" her words soft as she placed her hand on the back of the chair "At the same time."

"We have to talk to you guys," Chloe said as Delia cuddled closer into Beca's chest.

"This is important?"

It almost wasn't a question as Florence lowered herself into the seat across from her parents. Her fire-filled locks fell into a grey stare. You could pick her out from the crowd, her legs lanky and her stance pulled into utter confidence at almost all times.

"Mm," Beca knit her eyebrows together "For _you_ guys."

Chloe raised her mug towards her lips. "For all of us."

Delia knit her fingers into Beca's t-shirt, the woman rubbing small circles on her back. She contemplated bouncing her leg to keep the girl awake, but she knew that they had both of their daughter's attention fully. "Is this about where babies come from? Cause Flor already told me about that."

Chloe choked audibly on her coffee, snorting against the heat that pressed near her throat. "I'm sorry, what?"

Beca struggled to stifle a laugh, instead, resorting to placing a small kiss on the top of Delia's head. The little girl squirmed in her mom's grasp but didn't' attempt to pull away. Instead, she shifted until she was facing the table herself- letting her little hand rest on the surface. She effectively jabbed her elbow into Beca's side.

"No, no sweetie it's not." Chloe knit her eyebrows together, deciding to drop the subject for now. "But we need to talk about that later-"

"I'm in middle school, it's all we talk about."

Both women heard their daughter, even though the statement was mumbled. Beca cleared her throat and sat forward enough to not squish the girl in her lap. "Your mother and I think you're old enough to know something… about us."

Chloe gave her a sparing glance. This wasn't something they could just blurt out. It was a touchy subject that both women worked very hard to keep hidden from the general public. To keep them from moving around every five years- to keep them sane and their children's lives normal.

"Is this about you being umpires? Because I already know that."

"Vampires, Del." Florence leaned back in her chair "They don't even play baseball."

Chloe had kept her coffee to her side, not even bothering to down a gulp just to have it climb back up her throat in shock. Instead, she just widened those brilliant blue eyes. She dug her teeth into her bottom lip. This time, she was relying on Beca to take over.

"I mean, come on, moms." Florence leaned forward despite herself "you think we're completely oblivious?"

"No, I-"The small brunette stuttered, holding Delia closer. "This isn't weird for you?"

"You're my mom." She snarked back "It's a bit annoying that you're starting to look younger than I am."

"I knew." Delia was wiggling around in her seat, saying it with her singsong voice. She was getting a little too bouncy for Beca to handle. "I knew all's along and Florence didn't even have to tell me about that one."

"Are we done here?" The older girl cocked her pointed eyebrow, letting out a bored sigh.

Chloe snorted, physically pulling enough breath into her lungs to create an odd sound. "No, young lady, we most certainly are not done."

Florence Beale had her arms crossed against her chest, clearly uninterested in the looming conversation that was giving the two women so much anxiety in the first place. Beca clenched her jaw. "How did you know?"

"Blood," Delia answered simply as she reached across the table for the base of Chloe's mug, Chloe who absently slid the basin out of the girls reach. "I saw you drinked it."

"Drink, sweetie," Beca whispered, correcting the girl tenderly.

"Plus, I think Livy's mom is a horsey thing."

Florence parted her lips "Centaur? Miss Anderson just doesn't shave."

"Honey, that's rude." Chloe corrected, deeming it safe to pull her coffee back to her lips. It warmed her up, made her feel a little more human despite the cold chill that moved through her. "Miss Anderson is a nice lady-"

"She wears a size fourteen," Beca grumbled, pulling a squirming Delia back into the base of her lap, she wrapped her arms around her, avoiding the gaze of her wife as she rested her chin on the girl's shoulder.

"that's no excuse to- A size fourteen, really?"


End file.
